


On The Other Foot ...

by jessebee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Diagnostics via tea, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jedi kissage, Laughter, M/M, Qui-Gon Lives, Talking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, because I said so, graphic descriptions of cuddling, obi-wan gets a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 20:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessebee/pseuds/jessebee
Summary: “Do you think anyone would notice if I just – locked the door and refused to come back out?”





	On The Other Foot ...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cuzosu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuzosu/gifts).



 

 

Obi-Wan stepped into the room, closed the door behind him, leaned on the wall next to it, and closed his eyes. “Do you think anyone would notice if I just – locked the door and refused to come back out?”

“Eventually, after people started tripping over the laundry deliveries piled up in the hall,” Qui-Gon said, looking up from the pad he'd been reading. “Come and have a seat.”

Obi-Wan dropped himself down onto the couch in an untidy heap of tunics and coppery hair, head back and eyes closed again, looking ever so much more like the padawan he'd recently been than the slightly-too-dignified knight he was now.

Qui-Gon eyed him. “There is freshly-made tea in the kitchen.”

“That's nice.” Obi-Wan didn't twitch.

Clearly, this was serious.

Qui-Gon relegated his pad to the low table at the side of the couch, and ventured an arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. His old padawan could be prickly at the oddest moments, but this time he only collapsed against Qui-Gon's side with a sigh. Qui-Gon planted a slow kiss on the side of Obi-Wan's head, which won him a faint wriggle and another sigh.

Qui-Gon waited.

“Master, did you ever … ?”

“At my age, probably. Did I – ?”

“I mean, did _I_ ever … ?”

Aah, ah-ha. “What has young Ani done now?”

Obi-Wan slumped, the very picture of exhaustion. “What has he _not?_ How can one child have that much _energy?”_

 _If_ _you so much as snicker_ _, Master Jinn, you may never get laid again_. “Younglings frequently run on apparently inexhaustible fuel cells, dear one. Our Anakin is no different.”

Obi-Wan twitched, just slightly. “He's _your_ padawan, Qui-Gon.”

“With whom you have most graciously agreed to help this old master, and I dislike to think – in fact, I positively shudder to think what state I'd be in without you.”

Obi-Wan breathed in and then out, long and long, exhaling like he'd shunt every last molecule of air from his lungs. His hand, which had rested on Qui-Gon's leg as of a right, began to rub. “ … It’s not for free, you know; my help. I expect to be well-compensated for my assistance.”

 _There_ was his Obi-Wan. “Do you, now?”

“Hmm.”

“And you're sure I can stand the cost?”

At last, Obi-Wan looked up at him. The eyes that met Qui-Gon's were bright and mischievous, despite the shadows beneath them. “You're the only one who can,” Obi-Wan murmured, tilting his face up, and really, it was no hardship at all for Qui-Gon to lean in and meet that price.

The kiss was slow and sweet, and then deep and sweeter, and then they were stretched out the length of the couch, Obi-Wan underneath and freeing one hand to shove at the hank of Qui-Gon's hair that dangled across his cheekbone. “Of all the days for you not to braid this … ”

“Such grumbling,” Qui-Gon said and bent down to kiss him again. Only to have Obi-Wan sputter and push that annoying hand between them again, scrabbling away another swath of hair.

This would simply not do.

A push of Force and muscle later and they landed on the floor with a thump, Qui-Gon on the bottom, looking up into his old padawan's startled eyes.

“Master!”

“Better?” Qui-Gon asked, as dryly as he could, and blew a puff of air at the strands of too-long, red-gold hair now tickling at his own nose.

Obi-Wan stared at him.

And then he laughed, bright and sudden, mirth blooming, sparkling in the Force like some effervescent drink, and Qui-Gon grinned in return before he pulled the younger man’s head down and kissed him again, wandering hair be damned.

Qui-Gon had kissed, and been kissed by, others in the course of his long life, but somehow with Obi-Wan it was always new once more. The smell and the _taste_ of him, the weight of Obi-Wan’s body pressing Qui-Gon into the rug and anchoring him, arousing him, here and now, the Moment swirling around them, Obi-Wan’s tongue in his mouth, touching, teasing, the shift and light thrust of his, their, hips –

– the strident bleeeet of Qui-Gon’s comm unit from its perch on the side table.

Obi-Wan rolled off with a jerk, thumping to the floor as Qui-Gon hissed, counted to ten, pulled the offensive piece of technology to his hand with the Force and thumbed it on without looking at it. “Jinn.”

“Master Qui-Gon sir! We finished up practice and – !” Anakin wasn’t actually shouting, but it was a close-run thing.

Two minutes later, after the child hadn’t let Qui-Gon get more than a word or two in or even stopped for air, Qui-Gon set the unit on receive-only, laid one arm across his eyes and suggested something obscene and quite physically impossible in Mando’a, and Obi-Wan put his head down on Qui-Gon’s shoulder and laughed until he cried.

 

*

*

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> #7. Laughing kiss: QuiObi, maybe they get interrupted and one of them has to go deal with Anakin's shenanigans? 
> 
> Prompt from the always-lovely Cuzosu, I can only apologize for taking about a year and a day. Enjoy :-)


End file.
